


Acolyte

by trollmela



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s03e11 Mystery Spot, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 10:50:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5825647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trollmela/pseuds/trollmela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A deal with a trickster is a dangerous thing and Sam knew that when he agreed to it. What he didn't expect was Loki jerking him around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Acolyte

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for eosrose in 2012. I made minor edits before posting it on AO3.  
> Her prompt was: Mystery Spot AU. Sam makes a deal with the Trickster in exchange for Dean's life: his freedom for Dean's release from his date with hell.

_“Just take us back to that Tuesday-- er, Wednesday-- when it all started. Please. We won't come after you, I swear,” Sam pleaded._

_“You swear.”_

_“Yes.”_

_“I don't know. Even if I could-“_

_“You can.”_

_“True. But that don't mean I should…”_

“Do it!” Sam interrupted him. “Get him back and cancel his contract and you can have me!”

The Trickster’s nostrils flared and he lifted his chin. “Wanna say that again, Sammy?”

“Get Dean out of his contract and you can have me,” Sam repeated through gritted teeth.

“Tempting; so very tempting.” The demigod raked his eyes over him. “Do you even realize what you’re giving me permission to do?”

“My freedom?”

“You would be my living sacrifice,” he hissed. “And if you die, the contract doesn’t end. Your soul will still belong to me, forever and ever until I decide to let you go.”

Sam swallowed heavily. Was he seriously going to do this? But then he thought of Dean; if he didn’t do anything his brother would go to hell and be tortured forever. What was his freedom against that? He owed it to his brother.

“Dean’s contract was only a year,” he ventured.

“No, his waiting time was a year. The time he’ll spend in hell after that is forever. Why would I make my deal with you any shorter? But you know what: I like you, and I’ll be generous. Let’s reduce it to… oh, let’s say ten years. That’s a nice, round number.”

“Alright,” Sam agreed. His stomach was churning with nervousness. “Get Dean back and you can have me for ten years.”

“Are you sure?”

“You know, even from my computer I always hate that question.”

The demigod grinned. “Then it’s agreed.”

* * *

A contract with a demigod was not unlike a contract with a demon: it left a mark. It differed in that the mark was always visible. The Trickster’s mark was on the inside of Sam’s right thigh and it took him a couple of hours to find it. It looked like a Norse rune and Sam looked it up to find out that it meant Loki _._

Sam had been returned to a Wednesday with Dean alive. His brother had noticed that Sam was strangely relieved to see him early in the morning, and Sam had told him of the never-ending Tuesdays; but he didn’t tell him of the deal.

That left Sam with the dilemma that he had to somehow find a way to tell his brother that his contract with Lilith was, or would be, broken. Loki could call on him at any time, and Dean was bound to find out about the Trickster sooner or later.

Loki did not make him wait long. Two days after their deal, he appeared while Sam was brushing his teeth.

“Come on,” he said. “We’re going.”

“Going where?” Sam asked.

“Does it matter?”

The Trickster grabbed him by the arm, snapped his fingers, and they reappeared on a beach.

“Dean will be worried if I don’t come out of the bathroom.”

“Your brother is sleeping and he won’t wake up until we return,” the demigod countered. “You ready?”

“Ready for what?”

“See that bar over there?”

It was the pool bar of a hotel, a pretty expensive hotel by the looks of it.

“Yes.”

“And see the guy in the grey suit sipping beer at the corner?”

“Yes.”

“I want you to go to him and talk to him for a bit. Be nice and polite, but a bit shyer than you really are. Tell him you’re some college kid on spring break or something.”

“It’s not the right time for spring break.”

The Trickster rolled his eyes. “I’m sure you’ll think of something better instead.”

“What is it for?”

“Don’t ask silly questions,” Loki admonished him. “Do it.”

A stinging slap to his ass got him going. Sam shot the demigod a black look, but Loki only grinned.

 

Two hours later Sam was wet and dirty, and Loki’s victim was dead.

“It’s almost a shame, you know. I’d planned to have so much fun with him,” Loki mused.

“We need to take care of the body,” Sam said.

Loki shook his head. “Leave it. What would be the point if people didn’t know?”

“Someone could remember me!” Sam hissed.

“You think I’m that careless?!” Loki laughed. “If they remember anyone it will be a blond girl with a great rack.”

Loki walked off and Sam was forced to follow him.

“Why did you do that?”

“Why do you think I did that?”

“I don’t know! That’s why I’m asking!”

“He had it coming,” the demigod only replied. Glancing briefly at the human next to him, he continued: “Don’t tell me people never died during your monster hunts, humans, I mean. Because that would be a lie and good boys mustn’t lie. You’re a good boy, aren’t you?”

Sam squirmed. Yes, people had died. Was he still one of the good guys? He had learned that it was better not to think too much about such things.

“I don’t know. I guess I’ll find out when I die,” he said.

Loki studied him with narrowed eyes. “I guess you will.”

* * *

The next time, Loki whisked Sam away to gather herbs of all things. Not just in any backyard either, no, but in Norway of all things, in the middle of nowhere, and it was frigging cold!

Loki left Sam there, freezing, because while his thin jacket had been sufficient in Arizona, it wasn’t as warm in Norway. The Trickster had given him a page which looked as if it stemmed from a centuries-old book – and who knew, perhaps it did – and depicted some plant which Sam was now supposed to find. Naturally it wasn’t a common plant either, but an extremely rare one. Loki had claimed that he didn’t have time to look for some obscure weed and thus given his new “acolyte” the extremely boring task.

Sam hated every moment of it. He wanted to curse the Trickster with every breath of freezing air, and the only reason he didn’t was because he didn’t know whether Loki would hear. Once the Winchester had found the herb, he was to call Loki’s name and the Trickster would come to fetch him.

The Winchester brushed a patch of snow away with his foot. He wondered whether this wasn’t a wild goose chase because how many flowers did Loki expect him to find under the cover of snow? To his surprise he did find a few. And none of them looked normal either, and none looked even remotely like the one in the picture.

He continued looking, half of the time on his knees as not to destroy the herbs before he had examined them. He was so engrossed in his task that he did not realize that he wasn’t alone anymore until someone spoke up from behind him:

“What are you doing here?”

Sam swung around. A tall woman stood across from him, with long, gold-blonde hair and a broad figure with appealing curves. She wore a brown fur cloak and a green dress beneath, tied at her waist with a golden belt. Did she dress like that just for her amusement or had Loki put him not only in a different country but a different time?

“Ehrr,” Sam stuttered, rising from his crouching position.

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“I’m looking for a plant,” he said.

“And what plant would that be?”

Sam tentatively approached her and showed her the sketch.

“I see.” She regarded him with less suspiciousness. “You’re not dressed for this weather,” she commented. “Nor are you from around here.”

Only now did Sam realize that they shouldn’t understand each other. He had spoken English, but he hadn’t had any trouble understanding her when she had first addressed him.

“No, I’m American.”

“And who brought you here to look for that plant?”

Now Sam was getting a bit suspicious.

“Does it matter?”

“Oh yes, it does.” She came even closer, a bit too close for Sam’s comfort. She was setting off his ‘supernatural radar’; this wasn’t just any woman. “I’m Sigyn.”

Sam had to hide a grimace. If he hadn’t read up on Norse mythology so recently he might not have known her name, but he did recognize her now as a goddess who, according to myth, was even married to Loki.

“It was Loki,” he burst out.

Her surprise lasted only an instance.

“I see,” she repeated. “I’m can’t say I’m surprised that he won’t show his face. But how did he get you to come looking?”

“I made a deal with him in exchange for my brother’s life,” he admitted.

“How… loyal.” She unclasped her cloak and held it out. “Take this and come.”

He hesitated in accepting her offer, but when she added an impatient look, he conceded and wrapped the fur around his own shoulders, fumbling with the clasp, as his fingers were frozen and stiff. Sigyn batted his hands away and closed it herself.

Not waiting for his thanks, she turned and walked further into the trees. Sam found himself following her.

“Where are we going?”

“To find your herb, of course,” she called back over her shoulder. “You won’t find it out here. I’m surprised Loki brought you to that spot, but then again, herbs were never his specialty. Too busy playing tricks,” she muttered her last sentence, but Sam heard her nevertheless.

Sigyn seemed to know very well where they needed to go. She didn’t even have to remove the snow to see. At the trunk of a tree she stopped, and turned to him.

“Here,” she said.

There, beneath a thin cover of snow, was indeed the plant from the book. He looked up and found himself looked straight at the blade of a sickle. His breath caught for a moment until he realized that it was an offer and not a threat.

“Thank you,” he said.

Sam accepted the sickle and carefully cut the stem, then returned the blade. Unclasping the cloak, he handed it back as well.

“Tell Loki I said hello,” Sigyn said, throwing the cloak over her shoulders.

“I will,” Sam promised.

The goddess turned to go, soon disappearing from his view and Sam called Loki’s name. A snap heralded his arrival.

“You’ve found it then?” 

“Obviously,” Sam replied with an exasperated look. “Sigyn says hello.”

The Trickster grinned, not at all surprised.

Suddenly, it dawned on him. “Seriously? You made me come here into the freezing cold because you didn’t have the guts to speak to your _wife_?!”

Loki shook his head. “First of all, she’s not my wife and she never was. That was added to the story, and not by me. Second, you could use the occasion to get off your high horse.”

Sam glared at him. “Excuse me?”

All amusement vanished from Loki’s face. “You heard me right. You think you’re so much more righteous because you hunt the things that go bump in the night? Remember that I saw you when you were willing to kill your oldest friend because you thought he was me.”

“I knew it wasn’t Bobby,” Sam shot back.

“Really?” Loki drawled. “Were you _absolutely_ sure?”

Sam hesitated. The demigod snorted, snapped his fingers, and the Winchester found himself back in his motel room – alone.

* * *

“Where were you? I’ve been looking for you all over town!” Dean growled at him.

“I was out,” Sam replied, sounding no friendlier. He wasn’t in a good mood. Loki was yanking his chain, he had to be.

Today it had been wolf teeth. Not just any teeth either, no: it had to be the two last molars, right and left. Sam could honestly say that he had done a lot of things, many things involving blood, too, but he’d never pushed his hands down a wolf’s jaw to break teeth out. Naturally, dental hygiene hadn’t been in the picture and Sam wanted a thorough shower – badly.

“Yeah, I noticed.”

Dean blocked his way to the bathroom, wrinkling his nose when he caught a whiff of his brother and leant away.

“What did you kill, for god’s sake? You stink!”

“Obviously. Let me into the bathroom, I want a shower.”

“And I’m all for it, but first you owe me an answer.”

“A wolf, okay? I killed a wolf.”

Dean pulled a face and shook his head. “A wolf? You know, I’ve only got a few months left, I thought we could get up to doing something _useful_.”

“This is useful. It’s for a ritual.”

His brother narrowed his eyes. “A ritual? It wouldn’t happen to be one that can get rid of my contract? Stop being an idiot, Sam! You _can’t_ get me out of my contract!”

Sam was too angry to reply. Wordlessly he pushed past his brother into the bathroom and shut the door.

 

The next day, Dean was still mad. Sam was, too: at himself, at his brother and at Loki. But the demigod didn’t deign to show himself. Instead, Ruby found him at a gas station while Dean was filling up the car outside.

“I’ve been looking for you,” she told him in an accusing tone.

“What do you want?”

“If you want to save Dean, we need to do something.”

“I don’t know what _you’re_ doing, and I don’t want to know. But I _am_ doing something.”

“Hey darling,” a voice piped up, “Why don’t you get lost?” Loki popped up from behind a shelf, shooting them a brilliant, very fake grin.

Ruby narrowed her eyes.

“Who’re you?” She demanded.

“I’m your not-so-friendly neighborly trickster god. And you, I’m afraid, are in my way. Leave and never come back, or stay and die. Your choice, demon.”

Ruby didn’t seem to be inclined to challenging the god, but neither was she really willing to leave. In the end, she decided not to risk it. She still had plenty of time to train Sam for her uses.

Sam stared at the god. “What do you want now?”

“You showing a bit more gratitude and respect. But I’m assuming that would be too much to ask. Lacking that, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t associate too much with demons. They stink and I don’t like it if my acolytes stink.” Loki scrutinized him from head to toe.

“In other news,” he continued, “take a thorough shower tonight when you decide to find a motel due to the storm. You have a live-changing ritual to attend.”

“What storm?” Sam wondered. The sky outside was a brilliant blue and the weather forecast hadn’t mentioned any storms either. But Loki only winked at him, snapped his fingers and disappeared.

 

Outside, Dean was already waiting impatiently.

“What took you so long?” He demanded.

“Guy in front of me couldn’t make up his mind,” Sam lied.

The storm Loki had mentioned arrived unannounced and strong. It was raining so heavily that even Dean had a difficult time driving. With a curse, Dean finally conceded that they would have to find a place to stay.

Sam didn’t even bother taking a closer look at their motel. He gave up the right to first shower without a fight, assuming that Loki would come for him while his brother was sleeping.

A thorough shower, the god had said. Sam had honestly no idea what the god had meant by that. Unbidden, images came to his mind of rituals he had read about or seen sketches of, the kind where human sacrifices were tied to an altar until a god came to have them; whether it was rape or consensual sex the sources could never quite agree on.

Sam clenched his fists at the thought of rape. The only way he could see out of that was if he stepped back from his contract with Loki – which would ultimately mean that Dean would go to hell. Rape had never been something he had needed to fear. How things changed. He slapped his open palm against the tiles.

“You coming out anytime soon?”

Sam jerked back the shower curtain. Loki was leaning against the washbasin and openly staring at him.

“Sorry to interrupt your rape fantasies but we need to get going. And you need to write your brother a love note.”

“A what?”

“A love note. You know, one of those letters which starts with ‘Dear Dean’ and tells him not to expect you back for another four months or so.”

“Four months?! That’s not until the end of Dean’s deal!”

“I’m glad you remember. We’ve got a lot to do and very little time. As good as the view is from here, I suggest you get dressed.”

Sam pulled a towel from the rack and hurriedly dried off. Wrapping it around his waist, he stepped out of the shower and brushed past the demigod to enter the bedroom.

As Sam had expected, his brother was out cold, lying flat on his stomach on the bed with his right hand beneath the pillow and gripping the reassuring weight of his gun. Sam pulled on a pair of jeans and a shirt, then found some paper and a pencil to write a note.

He kept it short. There was nothing he could write that would prevent his brother from worrying, so there was no point in drawing it out. Out of reflex he reached for his cell phone.

“Nu uh,” Loki said. “Leave it. You won’t need anything besides clothes, although personally I find them optional. But if you must.” The god smirked at him.

Repacking his duffle bag didn’t take long. Throwing it over his shoulder, he nodded at Loki.

“I’m ready.”

“I doubt it, but you’ll have to be.”

* * *

It was nighttime and a full moon. Loki had transported them to a clearing in a forest. Whether they were even still in the US, Sam couldn’t tell. He was somewhat relieved to find that they were alone, and no other gods or, worse, crazed human followers were waiting for them.

“I thought we were through with rituals? I already belong to you, after all.”

“It’s true, you belong to Loki the Trickster. But this is something else.”

In the middle of the clearing was a stone altar, and on top all the rare materials Sam had gathered with much effort at Loki’s bidding lay amassed.

“There’s a ritual with which one can break a person’s contract with a demon.”

“So why didn’t I find it?” Sam demanded.

“If the ritual was well-known, we’d have a lot more work than we’d like. Moreover, the ritual needs to be conducted by someone who’s like me and actually willing to do it. You can’t force us to do it for you. You can ask. You don’t need to know the details. All you need to know is that you have to read off some lines I give you and Dean’s contract is history. Usually there wouldn’t be any further trouble but in this case we’re not dealing with just any demon, but with Lucifer’s first. She’ll be mad as hell so we need to take her out. And since you’re my acolyte for the next ten years anyway, you get to help me. Since it’s your fault that I’m in hot water, it’s only fair. Got it?”

“Not really. You haven’t told me how the ritual works.”

“Oh, details; details are boring! Let’s get down to business.”

With flourish Loki dropped various flowers, rare wood chips and some animal bones and ashes into a bowl. Next he pulled out a sword and placed it on top of the bowl. Turning to Sam, he beckoned him forward.

“Now I’m going to drop in a match and you’ll repeat what I tell you. Understood?”

Sam nodded.

“And you will never, ever repeat a word of it to anyone else, nor will you ever, ever ask me about any of it; I might tell you about it one day, but not today.”

The Winchester frowned. “You need me to swear a blood oath on that?”

“You word will do. Naturally, if you break it, I’ll cut out your tongue.” The sharp glare made it clear that the god really could do that.

“I promise then.”

“Good.”

As Loki had said, he dropped a flame into the bowl and the contents began to burn slowly, quite unlike most rituals where the flames quickly devoured the sacrifice.

“I, Sam Winchester, ask this messenger of God-“

Loki nodded at him to repeat the words. Sam complied, mind already racing to understand the meaning behind the oath.

“-to dissolve the contract between my brother Dean Winchester and the demon Lilith. In return I swear fealty, servitude and unshared love to Gabriel, messenger of God.”

Sam couldn’t claim to understand any of this. Gabriel, messenger of God? Gabriel the archangel? Evidently he took too long, as Loki shot him a baleful look. Sam nearly stuttered as he echoed the words.

“Great,” the demigod – if he was one indeed? – said, while his expression clearly conveyed his impatience.

“Let’s get out of here. What we just sent up is like the epitome of fireworks and I’d rather the guys upstairs found a PO box rather than my personal address.”

Dumbly, Sam nodded. ‘Loki’ grasped him by the arm, and snapped his fingers to transport them elsewhere. They found themselves in a city, Vancouver, if Sam wasn’t mistaken.

‘Loki’ didn’t seem to pay any attention to his surroundings. He merely walked down the dark street, Sam following him towards some unknown destination.

“Now what?” Sam questioned.

“Now you follow me like a good boy and maybe I’ll reward you for it.” Loki leered at him. Any thoughts of virtuous angels abruptly left Sam’s mind. It still didn’t explain anything. But he’d made a promise, he wore Loki’s name on his thigh and Dean would be spared. He thought he could live with the rest.


End file.
